


long live

by xaves



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, all of the angst, angsty lovemaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-07
Updated: 2012-10-07
Packaged: 2017-11-15 20:06:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/531188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xaves/pseuds/xaves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the bells of a wedding ring in the morning. A king and his servant fight fate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	long live

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of this wonderful gif set and idea. ([Original post](http://embrace-is-love.tumblr.com/post/25676486068/merlin-arthur-canon-era-au-gwen-overhears-a))  
> 

 

Merlin’s hands freeze around the throw pillow he’s holding. His fingers dig into the material in a white-knuckle grip that he barely feels. But he’s acutely aware of how dry his mouth is. How stiff his tongue, his lips pressed into a line as tight as a knot. He opens his mouth to reply, but manages only a choked sigh. Arthur’s eyebrows stitch together immediately.  
  
“Merlin, you must understand-“  
  
“Oh, I understand all too well.” And then the anger warms him. It floods into his frozen bones and dampens his throat until he feels hot, tense, and overfilled to the point of trembling. “You think I don’t? You think I have not known that this day would come from the very moment we met?” The warlock barrels on, ignoring Arthur attempt at a response, “Your duty is to Camelot. To this marriage. To producing heirs. In time, it will be more, but this is what you have to do tomorrow.”  
  
The heated words suddenly falter, and Merlin sharply looks away, tossing down the pillow, “Just as it is my duty to let you go. To step back and become nothing but your servant once more.” A shrewd smile curls his lips, “Perhaps I can dare to hope to retain your friendship, but even then-“  
  
“You will always be more than a friend to me, Merlin.” In two long strides, Arthur is beside Merlin, taking his wrist, forcing his gaze and attention. “Nothing will change that. You know this, you know that my affection, my _heart_ -“  
  
His words are gently cut off when Merlin presses the fingers of his free hand to Arthur’s mouth. He’s pale in the faint light of the candles, voice a harsh murmur, “You cannot have both. I will stand aside and watch you wed another, and in return, you cannot ask any more of me.” Merlin’s expression grows strained as he watches Arthur press small kisses to his upraised fingers. The young king skimming his lips over the fingertips, eyes dark beneath the blond fringe, firm grip as effective as shackles.  
  
“My lord. My liege. My king. Please. I have no more to give you but my loyalty.” Merlin finally whispers, turning his hand to curl around Arthur’s cheek, his breath a slow, sorrowful rattle in his thin chest.  
  
There is no resistance when strong arms tug his skinny body in closer, when broad hands push under his shirt to stretch over skin so well-known and explored already. The warlock presses their foreheads together, smoothing his thumbs over the other’s stubborn face and strong features.

“You do not realize the lengths I would go to keep you.”  
  
They pull and push at each other until the numbness becomes stinging, until they sink in and forget feeling altogether, not hearing the frantic shudder of a woman’s heart breaking just outside the door and the shudder of a man’s soul parting in two, sliced by a coin of two destined sides.  
  
A king breathes “I’m yours” into the sheets, sincere, royal, perfect.  
  
And a reedy warlock fades into the background of a wedding, smiling and praising the long life of a Queen, knowing that beneath pomp, circumstance, and royal red, written into the skin of his king are his fingerprints and lips, etched, permanent, bleeding, bruised.  
  
“Not anymore.”


End file.
